


Seeking Advice

by jazzyproz



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Other, Relationship Advice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 16:32:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18664150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazzyproz/pseuds/jazzyproz
Summary: Our lovable Constable Hugh Collins seeks advice from the most noble and upstanding man he knows - Detective Inspector Jack Robinson.  But is Jack prepared to offer this type of guidance?





	Seeking Advice

**Author's Note:**

> A/N Hello again! I think it was in the episode titled ‘Murder a la Mode’ in which Miss Fisher talks to Dot about the luxury of silk underwear and the importance of dressing for herself, first and foremost. It made me suspect that it was highly likely that she might, also, talk to Dorothy about what to expect on her first night with Hugh, and perhaps even beyond. That thought peaked the interest of the JazzyMuse in wondering who would offer guidance or advice to Hugh, our adorably naive Constable. I know his father passed when he was young, and he’s spoken of having nephews, but I have no idea if those nephews are born of his sister or brother, or if that was ever explained. For the purpose of this little tale, I’m going with the assumption that Hugh is the oldest male in his family. 
> 
> Oh, and I also beg your indulgence to disregard inaccuracies related to alcohol and to suspend any realities that may be misrepresented in this evening, as I don’t really know the intricacies of 1920’s at-home alcohol stock/consumption in Australia…   
> This was written in only about 40 minutes, so please forgive any spelling/grammatical errors. I think I caught most of them, but its possible I missed some!  
> Standard Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Miss FIsher’s Murder Mysteries or the characters - I just like playing in their sandbox.

“Let’s call it a night, Collins,” Jack nodded to his favorite Junior Constable as he pulled his office door closed.  “S’been a long day and we won’t get much further until we receive the coroner’s report. Tomorrow we can hit the ground running once we have a better idea of what exactly we are looking for.” 

 

“Uhh, yes, Sir.” Collins nervously shuffled the papers on his desk into a neat pile. “G’night, then, Sir.” He hastily shoved the book he’d been trying to sneak peeks at into his desk drawer. 

 

Jack looked at Hugh, his brow wrinkling in curiosity at the young man’s visible anxiety as he piled, sorted and  _ re-piled _ the same folders. Blinking slowly, he pushed the distraction aside as one of Hugh’s eccentricities. He was a naive young man, but had grown leaps and bounds in his role as Constable, and Jack was confident that whatever was troubling him would work itself out. 

 

“Good night, Hugh.” Jack turned towards the door and stepped out onto the front stoop, inhaling the fresh air. Glancing at his watch, he calculated how long it might take to reach Wardlow if he walked. It was a temperate evening and while they hadn’t made official plans, he hoped to stop by Miss Fisher’s to discuss what little they knew of the case so far. He pulled his hat slightly to the side, angling it the way she had done when she gifted it to him, and he smirked at the memory of her sparkling eyes when she’s placed it on his head. His desire to ‘ _ discuss the case _ ’ was little more than an excuse to see her, but he didn’t think she would object — they’d been progressively been moving closer together in their slow-burn waltz of late, and finally, he felt like they were nearing the point of mutual agreement. Just as he was about to trot down the stairs, feeling a bit of a bounce in his step at the idea of seeing his Miss Fisher shortly, the doors behind him snapped open with a bang. 

 

“Sir?!” Hugh called out then stammered, surprised to see him still standing closeby.  “Oh, sorry, Inspector. I thought you would have been down the road already…. I was just trying to catch you.”

 

“Is everything alright, Collins?”  

 

“Yes.  Well,” the young man shifted his weight from foot to foot and tugged on the bottom of his uniform jacket. “It’s just… Well, I was wondering…” He licked his lips nervously.  “I was going to ask if…” He looked down at his shoes, trying to form the question and hoped he didn’t sound as foolish as he felt. “You see, I don’t really have anyone else to…”

 

Jack took a deep breath and fought the urge to roll his eyes when no question was forthcoming. “What is it, Collins?”

 

Gaining his nerve, Hugh took a deep, cleansing breath. “I wondered if you would mind... if I were to ask you... some  _ questions… _ ”

 

Jack’s brow wrinkled again and he shook his head. “I don’t understand, Collins. What sort of questions do you have?”  

 

“About marriage…” 

 

“Ah, well,” Jack folded his hands in front of himself. “I don’t know if I’m exactly the right person to ask, Hugh. You  _ do _ recall that my marriage ended in divorce?” He raised an eyebrow. 

 

“Well, yes sir. Of course, I remember. Forgive me if this is inappropriate… it’s just... My da’ died when I was just a lad, and I’ve only my mum and aunties. My brothers are smaller and while my sister is married, I’m not really close to her husband. He isn’t exactly  _ approachable…”   _ Hugh flushed in embarrassment. “Charlie is far more likely to call me a right dill and try to humiliate me than to take my questions with any sort of seriousness…”

 

Jack suddenly realized what Hugh was  _ actually  _ asking. He wasn’t looking for advice on marriage alone, he was looking for advice on  _ Marriage _ … On  _ intimacy _ .  

 

_ Oh God _ , he thought, schooling his features. On one hand, he didn’t think he was the right person at all to have this talk with Hugh. On the other hand, the Inspector completely understood why his Constable might come to him about it. Hugh Collins was bright;  _ naive _ , but bright. Jack knew Collins wouldn’t trust any of the lads at the pub well enough to ask, and that was, perhaps, the best judgement call ever made by his young protege… Entering into a marriage blind was terrifying, but going in after getting the  _ wrong _ advice could prove positively catastrophic. 

 

Deciding that perhaps he could offer some sound advice to the boy, he nodded. “Sure, Hugh. I’d be happy to help if I can. I may not know all the answers, in fact I’m fairly certain I won’t, but I’ll help however possible.”  

 

Hugh’s relief was evident and instant. His shoulders relaxed and his nervous expression eased. “Thank you, Sir.” 

 

Jack nodded again, realizing his impromptu plan to stop by Miss Fisher’s had just been thwarted… but it was for a noble cause. 

 

It was already after six in the evening, so the possibility of taking Hugh to the pub for a pint was out of the question. Jack didn’t want to sit in his office and answer these types of questions over a finger of whiskey, either. Shoving his hand into his pocket, he found himself doing something that he never thought he’d do. 

 

“If you’d like to talk tonight, Hugh, let’s grab a couple-a meat pies from the cart and head to my house. We can wash dinner down with a pint or two…” 

 

“Are you sure, Sir? I don’t want to be an imposition, especially if you already had plans this evening…” He shrugged one shoulder. “It can wait, I suppose.”

 

Jack shook his head with a frown. “No imposition, Collins. But let’s grab those pies before he sells out.”

 

~MFMM~

 

Hugh couldn’t believe that his Detective Inspector was actually inviting him into his home. DI Robinson was legendary for keeping his work and private lives duly separated, and to Hugh’s knowledge, no one of a lesser rank than the Inspector had ever even  _ seen  _ the inside of his home. The Constable followed is boss through the back door, which led into a tiny, but orderly kitchen.  

 

They made small talk as Jack pulled out a bottle of ale and directed Hugh to a cabinet on the far wall to retrieve glasses. 

 

“Do you think Abbotsford have a chance at all this season, Sir?” Hugh placed the tumblers on the table. 

 

“Not if they don’t pull their heads outta their arses, they don’t,” Jack grumbled. “Last Saturday’s game was a joke. It was like they weren’t even trying.” Jack shook his head, almost disgusted to barrack for Abbotsford after watching their performance the previous weekend. “If they’re not careful, they’ll be left holding the Wooden Spoon by season-end. I’m sure Mr. Yates and Miss Williams were both pleased at the outcome, however... West Melbourne are certainly pulling out all the stops this year.”

 

“I made the mistake of agreeing to join Dottie for dinner that evening… Ces and Bert were, of course, loitering in Miss Fisher’s kitchen…”

 

“Oi,” Jack groaned, imagining the frivolity of Ces and Dorothy’s celebration against the sulking of  poor Hugh and Bert.

 

Hugh nodded, his face twisted. “It was  _ painful… _ ” He dug into his pie, humming at the rich flavors that filled his mouth. “Are you gunna play in the fundraiser tournament this year, Sir?”

 

“Most likely,” Jack answered, distracted as well by the thick gravy that oozed from the flaky crust of his supper. “I missed it last year, so hopefully this year I won’t be mid-case.” Every year, the Victoria Constabulary hosted a four-round footy tournament to raise money for the underprivileged, and the previous year had been the first in several that Jack had been forced to miss due to the demands of the job. “If I can’t, I expect you to do me,  _ and  _ City South, proud, Hugh.”  

 

The younger man blushed. “Yes, Sir.” He loved the game and hoped he would be able to play beside his mentor, but understood that the Inspector’s position on the force had higher demands into which he must give. “I’ll do m’best.” 

 

“I know.” Jack nodded. Taking a mouthful of ale to wash down the last of his meat pie, he eyed his protege. “I suspect Dorothy will hang her West Melbourne scarf aside to cheer on the City South team, yes?” 

 

Hugh chuckled. “She asked me what colours our team would wear… I think she is knitting a scarf for the occasion. She might even be knitting two,” he said nonchalantly. “Miss Fisher seemed keenly interested in the potential match, as well. Dottie told her that she’s be happy to make a second scarf and Miss Fisher just smirked and asked if the whole station would partake in the game.” 

 

Jack mulled this information over wordlessly. He and Miss Fisher had attended multiple matches for Abbotsford during the season. She had surprised him by claiming ownership of the scarf he let her wear on their first game together, memorable for so many reasons, and he had been more than happy to purchase new yarn when Dorothy offered to knit him a replacement. He’d been surprised at how much more fun the games were to frequent since she started joining him on the occasions, and he wondered if she really would come out to support City South if he were playing rather than spectating… The notion was inviting and he hoped to explore it in the near future.   

 

“Well, so long as the crim leave us alone that weekend, I’ll be playing.” They clinked their beer glasses together and finished off the contents. Jack opened another bottle and refilled them both before steering the conversation to the place it needed to go. He suspected the idle chit-chat had put Hugh well enough at ease to venture into more serious territory. 

 

“So, Hugh,” he sat back and eyed his young friend. “What was it that you wanted to talk about?”  

 

The anxiety returned in the blink of an eye, but Hugh swallowed it down, determine to glean as much information as possible while he had the Inspector’s undivided attention.  

 

“Sir, I feel rather… embarrassed to ask. I trust you more than anyone else, and I’ve no immediate family, _ male family _ , that I can talk to.” He met Jack’s eyes and realized that his boss was not judging him at all, but listening with his special brand of attentiveness. “I’m worried, Sir, that… that I don’t know  _ enough… _ ” He shrugged and turned his glass in his hands nervously. “Y’know… What if I’m too inexperienced…” In his mind, Hugh prayed that the Inspector would understand without him having to spell it out. To his relief, Jack nodded once.

 

“Hugh… Am I correct in assuming you’ve never been with a woman?“ 

 

Hugh’s eyes practically bulged from his head. “Of  _ course  _ not, Sir!” 

 

“Oh?” Jack’s brows immediately rose in surprise. 

 

“No, I mean  _ no _ , Sir... I mean,” he huffed at his own bafflement. “Yes, you are correct,  _ no  _ I’ve never been… with a… with a woman…”

 

Jack couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips. “Relax, Hugh.” He pushed up from the table, grabbing a tin of salty snacks that his sister had sent to him in his monthly ‘care package.’  Picking up his glass, he motioned to Hugh’s and raised his chin a bit. “Grab your glass, let’s go sit in the parlor.” He placed the tin on the coffee table and offered some to his young friend while motioning towards a chair. “Have a bite, Hugh, they go well with the ale, and make yourself comfortable.” He grabbed a few pieces and popped them into his mouth as he claimed his favorite well-worn leather highback. 

 

Once he sure they were both comfortable, he eyed the younger man. “Well, Collins, it’s be important to realize that both you and Miss Williams will be learning and growing together, and while that can be a little scary, it is also very special.  _ But _ , that doesn’t mean that you need to go into your intimate relationship completely  _ blind _ .” 

 

He briefly thought about his and Rosie’s wedding night and how terrified Rosie had been.  All she had been told was that sexual relations would hurt, but that it was her duty as a wife to open herself up to her husband. Jack had been horrified when she explained why she was crying before their honeymoon even began. He’d never been more grateful to his father for the heart-to-heart they’d had in the months leading up to his wedding. While he couldn’t say for sure, and would never be so bold as to ask, he was certain Phryne would offer Miss Williams some sort of advice on the matter, and hopefully she wouldn’t be as ill-prepared as his own bride had been. 

 

“I just want to make Dottie happy. I want to be a good husband, and eventually a good father. We have discussed and agreed on a mutual desire for a family.” 

 

“That’s good, Hugh. It’s good that you’ve discussed it with Dorothy. Communication is one of the most important aspects of  _ any  _ relationship, and will be the backbone of your marriage. If you can’t communicate, or if you stop communicating, actions may be misinterpreted, feelings may be hurt, irreparable damage can be done.  _ Always  _ talk with your wife openly and honestly.  Do not go to bed angry. Do not leave for work without telling her that you love her. We have dangerous jobs, Hugh… we don’t know what the day holds when we step out that door in the morning.” 

 

Hugh was enraptured with Jack’s speech, hanging on every word and hoping to remember enough of his advice once the big day arrived. He was surprised at the ease with which his normally stoic, buttoned-up boss was speaking. It was almost poetic. 

 

“By its very nature, your union with Dorothy will be abundantly complex. Regardless of a couple’s devotion to one another, there are multiple hurdles that need to be worked through during a marriage. The two of you won’t always agree on decisions that need to be made, you won’t always come to the same determinations and most often, when you try to reach a conclusion, to whatever challenge you’re facing, you won’t go about the process of analysis by the same methods. Women and men are different in ways  _ other  _ than the obvious physical, and you will need to learn to walk a fine line where you both give and take. It’s a careful dance, of sorts, and a learning process, so practice patience.” He knew that Hugh was listening closely, nodding and maintaining eye contact, and Jack hoped that his words would help the young couple. “You may always think that you are right, but please keep in mind, she,  _ too _ , will think the same.  _ And _ , as you’ve already had a small glimpse at her independent mind, remember that no matter how traditionally Dorothy was raised, she has been living with Miss Fisher for some times, now, and she  _ is _ , even if only on the surface, a budding modern woman.” He took a drink and considered what else he might address. His mind was made up for him when Hugh spoke.  

 

“What about…” Hugh wasn’t sure how to word his query. “Do you have any advice, or… experience that you can share about… physical intimacy? I’ve listened to some of the lads in the gym, and at the pubs... Some of the boys who are more… promiscuous. I’ve heard them say terrible things about their girls, and many of them aren’t even married! Some of what they say, though...” Hugh paled. “I don’t ever want to do anything that will hurt Dottie.”  

 

“Well…” Jack thought for a moment. “Something that my father told me, which I will pass onto you, is to always treat the woman you love with respect. She is  _ not  _ your property, she is  _ not  _ there for the sole purpose of pleasuring you. She is a human being; a beautiful, delicate, tender person who has placed her trust in you as her mate. Don’t ever betray that trust. Treat her body  _ and her mind _ with the same reverence that you hope she’d use to treat yours.”   

 

Taking a slow swallow from his glass, he returned it to his side table and looked at Hugh, measuring up the young man who was, in many ways, very much like a little brother to him. “Now, something that I would recommend, which is, I admit,  _ controversial _ , may not be to your liking…  _ but _ , I believe I would be remiss if I didn’t suggest it…” He watched Hugh’s eyebrows wrinkle and he almost wished he could be on the outside looking in during this whole interaction. “Hugh… have you ever... taken yourself in hand?” 

 

Jack thought the Constable was going to fall off his seat. “Wh-what?!” Hugh shook his head, certain he had misheard. “Y-You don’t mean…” He gestured vaguely in the direction of his own lap. 

 

“That’s  _ exactly  _ what I mean, Hugh.”

 

“Sir! That’s a sin in the Catholic Church! It says so in my studies for conversion.  _ Besides _ , it causes vile and  _ irreversible  _ diseases! I’ve heard doing that can cause your…  _ manhood  _ to fall off...” Hugh was glad he'd placed his beer on the table, he was likely to spill it all over himself.  

 

“It causes no such illnesses, Hugh. That’s a bunch of shite. And as far as it being a sin, well, I’m not a religious man, but tell me this, how do you expect your wife to be able to please you if you don’t know what you like yourself? I won’t argue with your studies Hugh, but as far as I understand, you’re not Catholic yet are you?”

 

“No sir, but still…” 

 

“All I’m saying is that you should know and understand your  _ own  _ body before you expect someone else to figure it out. But, we can shelf that topic for now…”  _ Before the poor kid has an aneurysm _ , he thought.  

 

“Thank you, Sir…” Hugh gulped his ale, wondering if he would ever be able to look at his boss in the same way again...

 

“You’ve kissed Miss Williams, yes?”  

 

“Oh, yes,” he grinned proudly. “We’ve kissed...  _ multiple  _ times, Sir…” He reached down to the floor, drawing Jack’s attention for the first time, to a small satchel he’d brought with him. “In fact, I’ve been referring to this on more than one occasion...” He suddenly realized that he shouldn’t show the Inspector the book, but by then it was too late, it was already in his hand. “This was, umm… turned in… by a... concerned citizen… Unsure if it was illegal or not, she,  _ they _ ,” he rushed to change the pronoun in order to obscure the identity. “ _ They _ wanted to ensure that she,” he clenched his hand at the way he was practically revealing her name, “that  _ they  _ were not breaking any laws by having received it as a gift…. I shouldn’t have read it… but,” his eyes flared, suddenly enthusiastic, “there’s a  _ whole chapter _ in here just on  _ kissing _ !” 

 

Jack held his hand out for the publication. “It was  _ turned in _ , you say?” 

 

“Y-Yes… she,  _ they _ ,” he huffed at himself, “the  _ person  _ said sh-  _ they _ , received it as a present…” 

“Yes, so you previously indicated…” Jack bit back another smirk as he studied at the cover. “When did she,  _ they _ , relinquish it?” He raised his eyes and pinned Hugh with a knowing look.    

_ Oh no, this is what it feels like to be sitting across the interrogation table from Detective Inspector Jack Robinson _ , Hugh swallowed thickly. “A… A few months back, Sir…” Hugh felt positively  _ ill _ . He hated being stuck between his mentor and the Lady Detective for whom he had formed a soft spot. “I, uh,” he cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I completed a report… about the book being relinquished, but… I... never filed it, sir…” His cheeks flared in sudden humiliation, this was somehow worse than asking for guidance in the first place. “I became distracted, sir…”   

“I see…” He flipped though a few pages, pausing on a couple entries that peaked his interest, blinking slowly to commit the images into his memory, and continued to leaf through the ( _ wonderfully _ ) explicit descriptors and illustrations. “I’ll admit, there may be some merit to this sort of…  _ reference material _ . After all, the Asians are well known for their skills and enthusiasm in the discipline of lovemaking...” 

Hugh grew animated. “That’s almost precisely what Miss Fisher said..!” Then he realized what he’d just done. “Sir…”

“Come, now, Collins.” Jack couldn’t hold back the chuckle. “I already knew Miss Fisher had been the one to give you this book…”

 

Astounded at his boss’s skill, his mouth fell slightly open. “But  _ how _ , Sir?”  

 

Jack met his constable’s gaze and smiled broadly. “Well, Hugh, if your expression hadn’t given you away, this would have.” He opened the cover to the inside flap pointed to a scribed label inside.  **_Ex libris Hon. Phryne Fisher_ ** . “You should  _ never  _ play poker, Collins,” he quipped, watching Hugh shrink in his chair.

 

“She pretty much told me  _ that _ , as well…” He looked at Jack, uncertain how to read his boss’s expression.  

 

“Hugh,” Jack placed the book on his side table and wanted to put the lad at ease. “I suspect that Miss Fisher  _ relinquished  _ her possession to your safekeeping in an effort to help. While the content of the publication may be bordering on violation of the Obscene Publications Act, the spirit in which it was offered was undoubtedly altruistic on her part. I will address the publication with her directly.” He crossed one leg over the other and folded his hands. “Hugh, there are no words of magic that I can give to you as you explore your sexuality with your wife. I can warn you, that no matter how desperately you want to make Dot’s first time painless, the mere fact that she is virtuous will result, most likely, in discomfort for her at first.” He watched as Hugh paled again, this time worse than before. “It’s mere biology, Hugh. A woman’s body, it’s created in such a way that her virtue, her  _ virginity _ , is...  _ protected _ , in a way, until such time that she chooses and trusts a partner enough to give that up. You must respect that gift, Hugh, honor her.” He tapped the book cover. “You’ve read beyond just the chapter on kissing?”  

 

Hugh nodded, unclear if he should be humiliated or proud of his initiative.  

 

“Good.” Jack saw Hugh’s relief at not being reprimanded. “Don’t expect to jump right into your marriage bed and consummate the union. Take your time exploring each other’s bodies, touching, kissing, learning what you each enjoy and how to bring that pleasure to each other.  Ensure that she’s comfortable with each progressing step, learn to recognize the signals she gives you, even non-verbal - a quiet hum or moan, increased breathing… Watch her reactions, look for a pink flush, her eyes will darken as her pupils dilate… You’ll learn her specific signals, just as she will learn yours…” He took another drink and tossed another few bites of his salty snack in his mouth. “Just as your body will react, so will hers, on a baser, instinctive level. You will harden, as I’m sure you’ve experienced,” the young man’s hesitant nod confirmed what Jack already knew. “Her body will grow moist.” Hugh’s brow wrinkled and Jack ventured to explain.  

 

“A woman’s body, Hugh, needs moisture in order to accept a man into her. If she is dry, or not moist enough, it will hurt. The kindest, most loving thing you can do, especially on that first night, is to not rush, Hugh. Touch her, kiss her, caress her... undress her slowly,  _ and  _ let her do the same in return for you. You have your whole lives in front of you, there’s no need to rush on day one…” He reached over and picked up the book, handing it back to Hugh. “Hang on to this a little longer, keep it confidential. Read it with an open mind, and while not every scenario will appeal to your tastes, you may garner some useful information. When you’re finished with it, return it to me, and  _ I’ll  _ have a word with its owner.” He shrugged one shoulder. “And if you come up with any other questions, I’ll do my best to answer them.” As uncomfortable as the conversation had started, by the end, Jack knew that it was far better that he offer what insight he could, as opposed to Hugh getting poor or incorrect tips from the boastful lads at the gym.   

 

Hugh accepted the book, recognizing that Jack was concluding their conversation for the evening. “Yes, sir. And,” he rolled his lip between his teeth nervously. “Thank you, very much, sir. What you’ve shared… I think it will help.” He slipped the book back into the satchel. “Do you think…  Do you think that it will take long to understand the workings of Dottie’s...  _ desires _ ?” 

 

Jack shook his head. “Men and women have been doing this for ages, Hugh. Since long before published manuals or gymnasium gossip. You’ll know what to do, and even if you don’t right away, as long as you’re sincere in wanting to learn, she’ll understand.”  

 

Jack motioned to the front door. “Good night, Hugh. See you in the morning.”  

 

~MFMM~

 

Jack’s knock came right on time and Phryne opened the door with a smile. “Good evening, Jack!”  She grinned and welcomed him into her home. “Mr. B is just putting the finishing touches on dinner, I hope you’re hungry.” Her smile grew salacious. 

 

He picked up immediately on her flirtiness, which had been growing bolder and bolder in recent months. He had to admit to himself, he’d been openly,  _ and happily _ , reciprocating those sly smiles and smouldering gazes. “Starving, Miss Fisher. Today has been quite a busy day.”  

 

“Well, come into the parlor and tell me all about it over a pre-dinner cocktail.” She handed him a drink, surely one of Mr. Butler’s divine creations, and motioned to the chaise lounge, hoping he’d take the invitation.  

 

With a knowing tilt of his head, he did, in fact, accept the gesture and sat beside her, closely, as they toasted wordlessly.  

 

“I had hoped you would have stopped by last night, Jack. Were you held up at work?”  

 

“No, actually, I wasn’t… My intention was to call in after my shift, but, my plans were derailed, as it were…” The tips of his ears reddened without his permission and he knew her keen attention to detail would pick up on it.  

 

“Oh,  _ do tell _ ,” she grinned, recognizing his tell and squeezing closer than perhaps proper in an effort to put him that much more on edge. 

 

She would wheedle it out of him either way, so he resigned himself to his fate. After all, there was a good chance it could prompt her to have a bit of a ‘talk’ with Dot if she hadn’t already… He would just be selective with regaling her of his advice to their young friend… 

 

“Well, Hugh stopped me before I even made it off the steps of the station last night…”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Postscript Note: So I hope this was at least somewhat believable and/or enjoyable. I just couldn’t get it out of my mind and had to write it down so I could refocus on some of my other duties of editing a friend’s fic. Sometimes the JazzyMuse can be so demanding!  
> Thanks again for reading. I would like to hear what you think. Please know, that while I don’t often respond to comments, it is not because I don’t appreciate them. Sometimes I just get so wrapped up in what I’m doing that I forget to reply. But please know, your comments are SO APPRECIATED!! 
> 
> peace & love, my friends,  
> ~jazzy


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